Chapter 112: I Have a Friend

Excluding the profits from spot trading and the Hongze agency account, Zhang Long had three personal stock accounts. He started the month with a total capital of 6 million, and in the first two weeks, he had made about 1.3 million—not a fortune, but decent.

For this week, his holding in Star Tour Technology was projected to yield a profit of 1.2 million by Friday. If he could squeeze out another 300,000 through the fluctuations of the other funds in his accounts, he would hit a total profit of 2.8 million. As for the monthly total? That would depend on the circumstances.

...

"Whoa, 7%!"

At Hongze Financial, Qian Caiying stared at the screen as Star Tour Technology gapped up by 7% at the Monday opening. She couldn't help but grit her teeth in frustration. That kid Zhang Long had guessed right again, and the worst part was that he refused to tell her his target price.

With such a significant jump, should she push it to clients?

"Push it! Push it boldly."

Qian Caiying made her decision. Since she had already recommended that clients keep a close eye on Star Tour Technology last week, she had to capitalize on this surge to stir them up. She would point out that those who didn't buy missed out on profits, suggest there was still room for growth, and urge them to deposit funds immediately to seize the opportunity—the usual script.

Of course, she wouldn't say it was guaranteed to rise or make money. She would use suggestive language like "estimated" or "high probability" to stimulate the clients' regret and greed, prompting them to deposit money and start trading.

Risk management had to be handled carefully, of course. If they made money, it was the result of the platform's recommendation; if they lost, it was because the market took a downturn—the market has risks, and one must trade with caution. She was prepared for any outcome.

Even if Hongze didn't push it, retail investors and other financial platforms were already paying attention to Star Tour. It was just a matter of who had the better "eye" for it.

"Brother Long is truly steady!"

At HSBC, UBS, and Juncai, Zhang Long’s account managers—Qin Miaotong, Gu Su, and the others—were shocked once again. When he started bargain-hunting for Star Tour Technology last Wednesday, they thought he would be trapped by two days of consecutive drops. Instead, the stock reversed on Friday, and he held it through the weekend, only to see it jump again today!

His nerve was undeniable, and his operations were scientific and methodical. He kept half his capital in long-term positions while using the rest for short-term trades. Despite the wins and losses, he was consistently coming out ahead. It was bizarre.

A wealthy second-generation heir who actually worked hard—and whose luck seemed to be kissed by the gods of fortune—who else would make money if not him?

Brother Long was becoming more handsome by the day.

...

"Withdraw it, it doesn't matter."

At the Huiyin spot trading department, Wang Jing watched Zhang Long withdraw 2.7 million. His net profit from last week remained largely unchanged. He had already withdrawn a large sum last Monday, leaving only 2 million to play with. As long as his trading volume didn't drop, it was fine; besides, she couldn't control him anyway.

Still, her boss was a bit resentful. Regardless of the reason, from the perspective of Huiyin and the department, it was "unprofessional" for a client to withdraw funds; they preferred clients to keep trading. If he had lost the money, they wouldn't say anything, but withdrawing while he was making money was just annoying.

Huiyin was a legitimate platform, after all.

"Call the client."

Well, Huiyin was annoyed, but the Dingxin Runde trading department across the street was green with envy. Why was Zhang Long withdrawing millions? Even if he had 2 million left, why withdraw? If he had the ability, he should play with larger funds; it wasn't as if they wouldn't let him profit.

Zhang Long always traded with half or full positions. As long as he stubbornly held a losing position once without admitting defeat, he could lose a massive amount. Holding a position like that two or three times would wipe out his initial 2 million principal. So, what were they afraid of? If he had the skill, let him make as much as he could.

But now, by withdrawing his millions in profit, he was essentially taking money out of the company. Few clients did that!

"Beep, beep..."

The phone hung up again. Zou Ming gave his boss a helpless look. He had called three times and couldn't call again; he couldn't afford to anger the client.

If he wanted to withdraw his profits, so be it. At least there was still 2 million in principal in the account, and he had already entered a position with half of it. As long as the trading volume was sufficient, it was fine.

It was the same at Runde. After three unsuccessful calls, they had to give up for the time being. Whether Zhang Long was actually busy or just didn't want to be bothered didn't really matter after they cooled down. They couldn't control a client's trading or their deposits and withdrawals; that was the client's freedom.

Forget it. They would see how he traded this week. As long as he didn't quit entirely, it was fine. The guy was aggressive, independent, and his volume was huge!

...

In the afternoon, Zhang Long returned home after finishing his errands.

Just like last week, he answered the risk-disclosure calls from the three spot platforms where he had opened accounts today. The account information would be sent to his phone shortly. Everything was in place.

Tomorrow morning, he would go to the bank to link the three-party business, and by the afternoon, he could deposit funds and activate the accounts.

He would use the three new accounts to go all-out on profits this week, while the three old accounts would be used for high-volume, lower-profit trades. It was a perfect plan.

"A net profit target of 15 million?"

As Zhang Long bought into a spot position, he contemplated. If he made 15 million across six accounts this week, that was an average of 2.5 million per account—not much.

It was definitely achievable if he wanted it; it was just a matter of making more on the new accounts and less on the old ones.

However, he had previously thought about opening a dozen accounts and milking them for all they were worth, but that didn't seem feasible anymore. Even a city as large as Shanghai had a limit to its market. The major exchanges had member platforms scattered across every district, and then there were the intermediaries for those platforms—it was a mess!

There weren't many platforms as relatively legitimate as Huiyin, Dingxin, and Runde that belonged directly to the exchanges. Small platforms existed, but they weren't safe.

"Milking the system" wasn't something you could just do blindly. Small platforms had rigged charts; they often manipulated trends and used slippage to force stop-losses. Their commissions were cheap, but these small platforms aimed for your principal. Once you were in, you weren't getting out. They would find all sorts of excuses to block your withdrawals.

"Nine at most."

At this thought, Zhang Long’s eyes flashed, and he let out a soft breath. He could open at most three more accounts in the Shanghai market before reaching saturation. If he made 20 million from each, that would be 180 million. Any more than that, and even if he could keep milking them, he would eventually trigger the platforms' capital pool warning thresholds.

Fortunately, the commissions generated by his trading volume would neutralize a significant portion of the net profit, so it wouldn't be too excessive.

He would call it quits by the end of January at the latest.

A full financial securities advisory license cost anywhere from tens of millions to over a hundred million. Adding in some fixed assets to hedge, 100 to 200 million was a decent start.

Milking the system was, after all, a side path. He would leave a way out for himself; once he stopped, he would definitely stop with spot trading.

...

"Little Zhang, are you serious?"

Before dinner, Zhang Long chatted with his landlord, Liu Yurong, via WeChat about selling the apartment. Although he hadn't managed to find out why she was selling or what her lowest price was, he had gathered enough information to reveal his true intention.

*Well, I have a friend!*

Zhang Long replied, "We've been taking driving lessons together lately. He heard that the apartment I'm renting is for sale. Moving is such a hassle, so he thought he might as well buy it and let me keep living here. He's a second-generation heir with plenty of money; he can easily pay in full."

"Even though he won't be living here himself, he sees it as a property investment. Prices are bound to rise, so it's a pity for you to sell it now, Sister Liu."

On the other end, Liu Yurong didn't immediately respond to that, as if she were deep in thought.

"How much is your friend willing to pay?"

A moment later, Liu Yurong sent a message. Zhang Long waited a few minutes before replying with his "friend's" latest sincere offer: "5.15 million in full. After taxes and fees, it'll be around 5.2 million—a lucky number."

"And we can close the deal at any time."

Cutting 200,000 off the price was significant, but the ability to close at any time was the real hook—a very strong one.

"At any time? Even this week?"

A few minutes later, Zhang Long replied that yes, as long as the property title was clear and there were no disputes, the paperwork would be quick, and the full payment would be made immediately.

The conversation stopped there. Liu Yurong replied that she would consider it, and that was it.

However, Zhang Long could guess that even if Liu Yurong wanted to agree immediately, she would wait until tomorrow.

If she seemed too eager, what if the price was lowered again?

Cutting 200,000 from 5.35 million was already a fair amount; any more would bring it down to around 5 million. Plus, the parking space that came with it would essentially be thrown in for free. He couldn't be too impatient.

So, when Zhang Long went to the bank the next morning to link his three-party business, Liu Yurong called him directly and said 5.15 million was acceptable, and she wanted to meet the buyer at noon.

"Yes, that's fine, Sister Liu."

Zhang Long shrugged as he replied. It was clear Liu Yurong was uneasy. A friend was only a friend, after all—what if he changed his mind or couldn't pay in full?

Unfortunately, there was no friend.

A mischievous thought crossed Zhang Long's mind. He was the tenant who would be buying the house. She was in for a surprise.

The look on her face would definitely be amusing.